Healing The Hurt Within
by falling-in-the-shadows
Summary: Thinking he's all alone in the Manor, Jason is surprised to find Tim. But he's even more surprised to find out what Tim's been doing to himself. One-Shot. No pairing (unless you squint). Warning: story centres around self-harm.


**Healing The Hurt Within**

Jason had never realised it before, but Wayne Manor was eerily quiet when no-one was at home. There was no creaking of floor boards as someone walked down the hallway, and no sounds of clanging pans as Alfred worked in the kitchen. There was no laughter or shouting from wherever the Manor's inhabitants had congregated, and no insistent barking as Titus pleaded for someone to play with him. Everything was just silent.

Or at least it was, until Jason heard music coming from Tim's bedroom. He stopped in front of the door, hand resting on the handle, and called out. "I hope you're decent in there, Babybird, 'cause I'm coming in!" There was no reply, so Jason opened the door a peered inside.

Tim was sitting on his bed with his back facing the door. Unbelievably loud music was blasting through his headphones and the sound echoed around the room. He had removed his t-shirt and was leaning over his left hip, casually caving thin welts into his skin with a pair of nail scissors.

Jason was striding across the room before he had fully registered what he was seeing. He grabbed the scissors out of Tim's hand, scaring the younger man. Tim scrambled to the head of the bed, staring at Jason with wide eyes.

"What the hell, Jason?!" Tim yelled. He pulled his headphones off his head and switched off his I-Pod. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"For your information, I called out to you but you didn't hear me!" Jason yelled back. He waved his hands frantically at Tim's hip. "What the fuck is this?!"

Tim pressed his hand against his hip to hide the scars from Jason's view. He winced when the skin on skin contact stung. "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh, so this isn't self-harm then?" Jason asked. He twirled the scissors around his fingers. "Because that's what it looks like to me."

"It's not self-harm." Tim argued. He glanced longingly at his bedroom door. Jason could practically see the cogs turning in his little brother's brain as he tried to figure out every possible escape route and scenario. But Jason was both stronger and faster than Tim; they both knew he wouldn't get very far if he tried to make a break for it.

"Sorry to break it to you, Babybird," Jason sneered, bringing Tim out of his thoughts of escape, "but it doesn't matter what you use or how serious the damage is, from the moment you start willingly inflicting pain onto yourself it's counted as self-harm."

"It's not self-harm." Tim hissed, glaring at Jason.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim. "Then what is it, Tim?"

"It's nothing. Just drop it."

"It's nothing?" Jason repeated. "So, you just do this on a whim?"

"No!" Tim protested, taken aback by the idea. "No, I…"

"You what, Tim?" Jason cut in. "If you don't think that this is self-harm, then what _do_ you think it is?"

Tim ducked his head and began to pick at a loose piece of cotton on his bed cover. An ashamed blush spread across his cheeks as he mumbled. "I…I don't know."

Jason sighed softly. Tim obviously didn't want to admit that he was self-harming and Jason could sympathise with that. Admitting your problems is usually the first step to recovery, but it could also be the hardest. Jason perched on the edge of Tim's bed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Look, I understand if you don't want to talk to me about this, but you have to talk to someone."

Something akin to fear flickered across Tim's face. "I don't need to talk to anyone."

"Yes, you do. You obviously don't understand what you're doing to yourself. You need to talk to someone who can help you."

"I don't need to talk to anyone!" Tim snapped.

"You don't have to talk to a stranger," Jason continued, "just someone. Maybe Alfred, or Dick…"

"No!"

"Tim…"

"I won't go to Arkham!"

An ice-cold silence fell between the two brothers. Tim glared at Jason and Jason stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Tim, not quite believing what he just heard. "I…what?" Jason spluttered.

"I won't go to Arkham." Tim hissed, slipping off the bed and making a run for the door. But Jason snagged his wrist and struck him with a nerve strike that rendered his legs useless. He caught Tim before he hit the floor, narrowly dodging the nerve strike that was aimed at his neck. He grabbed Tim's arms tightly and pulled them behind his back, effectively restricting all of Tim's movement.

"Tim," Jason panted, not quite sure how this conversation had gone down hill so fast, "Tim, listen to me."

"Why? So you can tell he how fucked up I am. I'm not crazy!"

"Jesus Christ, I KNOW YOU'RE NOT CRAZY!" Jason screamed.

Tim turned his head away because of how loud Jason's voice was in his ear. "Then let me go. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Just let me go."

"Everything's not fine, Tim. But that doesn't make you crazy." Jason added. "I know crazy. I've been crazy! You are far from being crazy, Timmy."

Tim sagged against Jason, as if all the fight had suddenly been blown out of him. Jason let go of his arms and wrapped them around Tim's chest, pulling him tight against his own. "I'm not crazy." Tim whispered.

"You're not crazy, Babybird." Jason reassured him. "But you need to talk to someone, Tim. You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy."

Tim let out a light, breathy laugh. "And who do you suggest I talk to? Alfred isn't exactly an expert in this and Bruce has the emotional range of a rock. My friends are always busy and Steph and I aren't as close as we used to be. Damian's out of the question and Dick…"

"For fuck's sake, Tim!" Jason snapped. "Talk to me!"

"I…what?" Tim stuttered, his body going rigid against Jason's.

Jason sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "Talk to me, Tim." He repeated softly. "I won't judge you and I won't think you're crazy. I've been where you are Tim; I know what it's like to be all alone with no-one to turn to. Let me help you." At Tim's uncertain look, Jason continued. "Look, I'm not going to let you keep doing this to yourself, and you seem pretty unwilling to talk to anyone else about this, so…talk to me."

Slowly, Tim's expression softened and he looked up at Jason with tired baby-blue eyes. "Okay." Tim whispered, leaning against Jason and closing his eyes. "Okay."


End file.
